Wolves

There where I get devoid of inspiration,
My poems will turn to stone;
And while the heart cannot answer to this temptation,
A chilly wind makes me shiver to the bone.

“Wolves!” they said. Let nature fight silence with love.
And then the pack drew back in fear until the seventh sunrise. (Blackest rays…)
“I could not find sugar in their cove…”
But oh, those were words of the unwise.

This pack proved to be my final inspiration;
This land came to be my last desire.
All comes along with responsibility,
Being lit in their fire; burning on a gnarled pyre.

“Time will tell.” “Farewell!”
The hopes are high!

Some things flow through time and space in a hustle
Everybody keeps looking for power; the power in each and every one of us.

“So much I wanted to give to the ones who love me!”

“I’m sorry!”